


Bramley Apples

by R00bs_Teacup



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Apples, Domestic, Fluff, Polyamory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-01
Updated: 2015-09-01
Packaged: 2018-04-18 09:51:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4701641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/R00bs_Teacup/pseuds/R00bs_Teacup
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gwaine's home, Arthur's cooking, Arthur's mad. Merlin gets back from work in the middle of it all. pretty much a standard day.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bramley Apples

“You know, I am very much aware of Gwaine being home, and I wish he'd go back on tour with his guitar and his drummer and his stupid hair.”

 

Merlin stops sorting through the mail to look at Arthur, hand halfway to the fruit bowl. He decides that Arthur's just got some little gripe, so he plucks an apple from the bowl and chucks the post on the table.

 

“See!” Arthur says, waving a spatula at Merlin, “see!”

 

“I see a spatula,” Merlin says, pushing Arthur's arm until the spatula is back over the pan and no longer dripping juice on the floor.

 

“You're a normal person, who eats normal fruit from the fruit bowl,” Arthur says.

 

“I went and bought the 'normal' fruit because you were on a gripe,” Gwaine says, wandering into the kitchen, naked except for a single sock.

 

“We have windows across the entire side of the building,” Merlin says, “did you just give all our neighbours a floor show?”

 

“Yup,” Gwaine says, “Spice up their Thursdays.”

 

“Don't sit on that chair,” Arthur growls at Gwaine, spatula in play again, “you're clammy butt is not getting anywhere near those nice clean chairs. Last time you left _residue._ ”

 

Gwaine looks around, locates Arthur's hoody on the back of another kitchen chair, and sits on that. Merlin bites his lip to keep from laughing as Arthur's nostrils flare. Merlin goes to put the kettle on, so he has his back to the other two and Arthur won't see his smile. 

 

“Ow!” Gwaine says.

 

“Serves you right,” Arthur says. 

 

Merlin turns slowly to see if he can work out what happened. The big purple splotch on Gwaine's cheek suggests the spatula made contact, but Arthur's back at the stove and Gwaine winks at Merlin, so it can't have been very hard. Merlin shakes his head at Gwaine. 

 

“Right,” Arthur mutters, “Mm... hmm... yeah.”

 

He takes the pan off and moves to finish up whatever he was cooking. Merlin peeks over his shoulder and sees the insides of an apple pie, pale segments laid out in a neat circle. Arthur tips squishy, soft, apple and blackberry sludge out of the pan and then shakes out a layer of blackberries from the colander at his elbow, then arranges another neat circle of apple. Four layers go on like that before Arthur picks up the pie top and paints egg over. 

 

“Can I make the holes?” Gwaine asks, breath hot on Merlin's neck. 

 

“Get away, you naked fiend,” Arthur says. 

 

“That's a 'no', I think,” Merlin says, “can I do it?”

 

Arthur looks at him, looks him up and down, then points him to the sink. Merlin washes his hands quickly and hurries back, taking the offered knife.

 

“Wait,” Arthur says. 

 

He takes the knife back and rolls out a scrap of pastry, cutting a tiny apple. He presses it to the top of the pie and then gives Merlin the knife again, gesturing grandly. Merlin makes two cuts, then a third for luck. They stand back to survey the glory of the pie. Arthur loops an arm around Merlin's shoulders, nosing in behind his ear and kissing the sensitive skin there. 

 

“Good day?” Arthur asks. 

 

“No, actually, but it wasn't too hellish,” Merlin says, “and I came home to pie and naked people, so I'm happy.”

 

“Only Gwaine's naked,” Arthur grumbles, pulling away. 

 

He slides the pie into the oven and turns to glare at Gwaine. Gwaine makes a sad, frowny face and slumps, shoulders drooping, back bending, sloping out of the kitchen. Merlin laughs and Arthur gives him a small smile before heading to the sink and the clearing up. 

 

“You can go cuddle him if you like,” Arthur says, “I won't mind a bit. He's really annoying, though, I warn you.”

 

Merlin sits in the kitchen, instead, opening the bills and sorting them into three piles. He sighs when his water bill is almost twice as much as Arthur's was last quarter, but doesn't comment. The amount varies and they agreed to just pay turn and turn about. It evens out, usually. 

 

“What've you been doing on the internet?” Merlin asks, looking at Gwaine's bills. 

 

“Nothing, it's his. He used the hot spots thing, and went above the cap. Apparently it was worth it, the bus wi-fi was shit,” Arthur says, “he was grumbling about it, earlier. Something about long journeys and Percy not being talkative.”

 

“Did you make dinner?” Merlin asks, “or just a pie.”

 

“Um, just a pie, really. Sorry. There's pizza in the freezer, though, left over from last time you made it. All put together and everything. Twenty minutes in the oven and bam, dinner.”

 

Merlin gets up to sort that and Arthur wanders out, humming one of Gwaine's songs. When Arthur and Gwaine come in for dinner twenty minutes later, they're both wearing boxers and Gwaine's hair's sticking up at an odd angle. Merlin assumes extreme cuddling, but then notices a hicky on Gwaine's neck. 

 

“Arthur, honestly,” Merlin says, dumping the tray of pizza and the salad bowl on the table and sitting, “you're obsessed with necks.”

 

“Did he mark me?” Gwaine asks eagerly, fingers roaming over his own skin. 

 

Merlin guides them to the mark and Gwaine grins at Arthur. 

 

“Don't look so smug,” Arthur says, “I still haven't forgiven you. You ate four.”

 

“Four what?” Merlin asks. 

 

“Apples,” Gwaine says, “just apples.”

 

“Four of my _cooking_ apples! I had to go and pick blackberries! It was plebeian!” Arthur rants, obviously on a well-loved topic. 

 

“The things you find plebian are mind blowing,” Gwaine says. 

 

“You're plebian,” Arthur says. 

 

“Why didn't you go buy blackberries? Co-op usually has some in,” Merlin says. 

 

“I already paid for pie-fruit,” Arthur says, regally, “I refuse to pay twice. And Gwaine refused to cough up.”

 

“You ate four cooking apples? They're really bitter,” Merlin says. 

 

“Not these,” Arthur says, glumly, “I got them from the farmers' market. They're home grown, really fresh, and sweet and crisp and perfect.”

 

“I am sorry for gorging on your lovely big apples,” Gwaine says, “they were really nice.”

 

Arthur looks torn. He likes to hold grudges, and he likes to have a good gripe about something, but he's also clearly amused by Gwaine, and Gwaine's been gone long enough for Arthur to have actually begun to actively miss him. Which hardly ever happens. Usually it's just Merlin who misses Gwaine, while Arthur swans about the flat enjoying the quiet (and disturbing the quiet to shout to Merlin 'see? See how quiet and calm it is without him?'). 

 

“I accept your apology,” Arthur says, “however, you will have to forfeit your right for first choice of pie slice, and you will have to have ice cream with it, instead of cream.”

 

“I don't like cream anyway,” Gwaine says, nodding in agreement. 

 

“I made the pie for you, anyway,” Arthur says, “I suppose the apples were technically yours to do as you pleased with.”

 

Gwaine smiles, wide and genuine. Merlin snorts and shakes his head. 

 

“You two are such sops,” Merlin says. 

 

“You're the one who cried when we watched Jurassic Park without Gwaine,” Arthur says quickly. 

 

Gwaine smiles wider. 

 

“Well, you're the one who was so excited yesterday that you got us to the airport at five in the morning! Gwaine didn't even get in until ten!” Merlin retaliates. 

 

“I did not! I'm just organised,” Arthur says, “and you made a pillow-Gwaine.”

 

“You put Gwaine's jumper on pillow-Gwaine and brought him out to the sofa for your Empire marathon!” Merlin says. 

 

“Aw,” Gwaine says, face almost cracking under the pressure of his smile, “you missed me. I knew it.”

 

“No we didn't!” Merlin and Arthur says, at exactly the same time. 

 

Gwaine starts to laugh, and Merlin and Arthur exchange a look while he's busy, both acknowledging to the other that actually, yes, they did miss him. 

 

 


End file.
